Wingman
by Galacticlone
Summary: Purple convinces Red to get high with him on Vortian Hydrafruit for the first time. Obnoxious laughter, fictitious police chases, and poorly planned cookies at midnight plague the Massive as Purple reminds his stoic wingman how to let loose. (One shot)


Hello and thank you for picking up this oneshot! I appreciate you so much! I had this thought late last night and I thought it would be hilarious to do and draw from my own freaky experience of getting high the first (and last) time!

I hope you enjoy these awful dorks and their irresponsible shenanigans as I pump more Invader Zim filth into his world. I'm only slightly sorry.

**Rated M for heavy recreational drug use, irresponsible peer pressure, suggestive themes, and brief heavy language. DON'T DO DRUGS KIDS. THIS A BAD EXAMPLE! I MEAN IT.**

* * *

"Wanna get high?"

The question had come late one night as they sat together on their loveseat, re-watching the same stupid Plookesian drama for the hundredth time as they lay glued to the screen out of sheer boredom. Red didn't like to be bored and Purple knew that, taking the opportunity to introduce something a little more dubious into the monotony of their routine. He held up a small bundle of dark blue leaves with a tiny smile, watching in amusement as Red blinked and shrunk back in repulsed aversion at the odd request.

"What? Where did you even _get_ that?"

Purple rolled his eyes and followed his friend across the couch, nudging him teasingly in the ribs and chuckling when he didn't fight back. "You really think everyone on this ship is on the straight and narrow, Red? I have my sources."

Red tried to shove him back with a scowl, standing and spinning on his heel with a soft huff. "No. I'm not doing that. What if we smoke it and it's cut with something weird?" He shuddered at the idea of pumping his body full of unusual alien nonsense.

Purple let his smile fade when he went to leave, jumping up and hastily following. "Aw, come on! Aren't you bored?" He begged, hoping the fake pathetic tone to his voice would sink in and win over his target. "You're supposed to be my wingman!"

Red flattened his antennae at the droning whine piercing through the silence. "Shut up! I said no!" He jabbed harshly, grumbling when Purple grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around to look him in the eye with that demoralizing glimmer of mischievousness that always had Red standing at the edge of his own ethical decency. "Stop it. Don't do that to me!"

Purple stuck his tongue in his cheek with a demure click and rocked forward on the balls of his feet, attempting to look as innocent as physically possible through his rouse as he unraveled his companion. "Do what?" He giggled when Red grew flustered and began to stumble over his words.

"That thing."

"What thing?"

"The thing you do with your eyes when you want something. It's stupid."

"Hey! I-I'm not stupid! _You're_ stupid!"

"Oh, yeah, smooth comeback, Pur. I'm not the one who wants to get high on alien bullshit!"

"Ugh, what's the big deal? You get high all the time when we're back home!"

"Yeah, off of stuff that's actually _clean_ that I didn't bum off of engineering below deck."

"W-…Wait, how did you know I got it from engineering?"

"Who else would be dumb enough to sell drugs to a Tallest?"

Purple stomped insolently against the ground with an irate curse, satisfied when Red flinched and finally tore his domineering stare away and crossed his arms resolutely over his chest. He thought a long moment, grinning deviously when the spark of a sudden idea hit him and gave him hope for dubiously convincing his friend to partake of the sweet fruit of nonconformity. He yawned uninterestedly, crossing back to the couch and slumping down before digging into the pocket of his casual robes and pretending not to notice Red's returning gaze attempting to dig under his skin. If Purple held out long enough, the sour untamed need to know would get the best of Red and draw him forward like a moth to a flame.

Worked every time.

Red watched him leisurely, narrowing his eyes in mounting interest and curiosity when his friend pulled out a tiny plasma lighter, forcing the messy bundle to his lips between his fingers before flicking it.

"What are you doing?" Red asked gradually, still refusing to budge from his spot when Purple shot him a coy side glance. "You're gonna make yourself sick, dumbass."

Purple didn't listen, leaning forward slightly and bringing the foul-smelling leaves to a slow, tepid smolder before taking a lewd, deep inhale. Almost immediately, his air of mystery was shattered as he was thrown into a violent, spine breaking coughing fit, nearly dropping the precious bundle and fumbling to keep his graceless hold on his glorious fix.

Red chuckled from where he watched, smugly enjoying watching Purple flush as he struggled to rid his almost virgin lungs of the stinging, unfiltered burn of thick ash he hadn't been expecting as nasty blue smoke curled from his lips and died away. Amateur. He had smoked a few times before, but only back on Irk when they reclined lazily on the balcony in their tower in the evening and even then, the hardest thing he had done was cheap menthols and the occasional lighthearted resin hit off of Red's bong he kept hidden in the back of his closet. He couldn't even handle that, rocketing beyond cloud nine and conking out for a few hours while Red had to halfway drag him through their quarters to dump him on the couch before he got physically sick. What an immature narcissist, thinking he could skip a few steps and suck on something as hard as Vortian Hydrafruit. You had to ease into these things and Red knew Purple was in for the worst come down of his life. It would be another night full of confused crying and retching as Red reluctantly ran his hands over his back in the cleaning room to try and sooth the woozy sickness that was to come.

Fantastic. This was just how he wanted to spend his evening after work.

Red drew his antennae back at the stench as he was brought back to his clubbing days in the Elite, nearly gagging on his friend's secondhand smoke wafting through their tiny living quarters and tainting everything it dared touch. There would be no way to get the smell out in such a tightly enclosed space, and everyone aboard the Massive would soon smell the acrimonious telltale signs of Purple's aberration wafting up through the internal vents. Great. By morning it would be splayed over the national news that they condoned recreational drug use. Soon, the whole damn Empire would probably be stoned!

"Aw, gross!" Red cried out, clamping a hand over his mouth when Purple harshly cleared his throat before taking another weighty puff. "Dammit, Pur, go somewhere else to do that! All of our stuff will smell like a Vortian strip club for weeks!"

Purple held his breath with a shaky smile, hopping back up and forcibly following Red back to the wall as he tried to escape before releasing a rancid mouthful of horrendous, eye-stinging smoke directly into his face.

Red sputtered and coughed, waving his free hand through the tainted atmosphere in a desperate attempt to clear his precious airspace of the filthy, mind-numbing haze his idiot co-Tallest thought would be hilarious to tempt him with.

Wait…tempt?

Was he _actually_ tempted?

Ugh, no! Of course not. He wasn't tempted by the dreamy look floating lazily over his friend's expression, or the giddy excitement lacing every snicker. He wasn't jealous of the oblivious smile stamped firmly across his face or the glassy beauty of dulled cognition drawing sweet giggles from his lips.

He wasn't tempted.

Nope.

Never.

But if he _was_ tempted, hypothetically of course, what would it taste like? Would it be as horrid in his mouth as it was in the air? Would it singe his lungs like it had done to Purple? No, Red was no beginner. Would he feel free, unabashedly unapologetic, wild and untamed to the universe?

Red blinked in self-loathing, quickly pushing it away when Purple went to take a third draw he definitely didn't need, snatching it ruthlessly from between his languid fingers and bringing it to his lips to take a short, tentative inhale.

"Hey! I thought you didn't want to try it!" Purple complained, trying to steal back his much needed high and only earning a firm palm to the side of the face as Red pushed him back.

Huh. This…this wasn't that bad. It was disgusting, yeah, but the aftertaste was oddly pleasant as Red savored the sour taste on the tip of his tongue. He exhaled slowly and added to the thick cloud hanging between them, immediately feeling the powerful hit shoot up over is nervous system and halfway sedate him, all the stress of the day flooding away in languid sweeps. Yeah…this was actually nice! He allowed himself a tiny smile and followed Purple back to their loveseat as he pouted, leaning back into the stiff cushions as he flicked his ash expertly to the floor.

"Good, right?" Purple chuckled with a faint mumble, hanging blearily against the armrest as he beamed. "Best hit of my life."

Red glanced back up and felt every muscle in his body sigh when he was overtaken by the beauty of sweet release. "What do _you_ know about hitting?" He teased with another deep, guttural draw, letting his head roll back as the incredible smoke set his hands and feet into a pleasant tingling. "All you've ever done is the crap we dig outta my bong." He thought a moment, feeling his cognition lapse. "I will admit though, you did good with this one."

"See? You just gotta trust me sometimes, Red."

* * *

It didn't take long to finish off the bundle, the two snickering and bursting out in hilarious fits of rib cracking laughter at the dizzy flush of color dotting each other's cheeks as they yielded to the high.

"Holy shit! H-Holy shit, Red!" Purple giggled incessantly, pushing himself up and swaying precariously where he stood. "You know, life…life is…._life_. We can't sit here all the time and just waste away and do nothing. I wanna get out there…and…a-and do something with these hands!" He held up his fingers in awe as he looked them over with newfound fascination. "These are the hands of a god, Red! These are the hands of a _god_! I have the power to do anything I want and I wanna…eh…I dunno."

Red nodded along with his words as the profound statement blew his frayed mind. "Woah. Y-You're right!" He gasped, trying to stand but only collapsing back down on the couch in a strange urgency that captured his infantile concentration. "Does this mean we're…we're both gods?" He tried to hang on to the fleeting forbidden knowledge, rolling onto his back and squeezing at the scratchy upholstery of their couch, instantaneously forgetting their deep conversation in favor of a new observation. "I-Is it just me or did this couch get softer?"

"The couch?"

"Yeah. It feels amazing."

Purple watched him from above with an uncoordinated blink. "It's a nice ass couch." He grinned haughtily as he practically spat the words like fact, crumpling at the knees with a contented sigh as he began to poorly sing out his words. "Couch….mm…co-uch!"

"It's the best fucking couch in the universe! Irk, it feels so good." Red burst into an untamable fit of inebriated laughter as Purple collapsed back down on top of him and smacked him hard in the side of the face with his jelly-like limbs. He pushed him off, tears of amusement pricking at the corners of his eyes when he landed hard on their rug with a deadweight thump as he screeched out broken notes. "You're such a good singer, Pur. We should do a…what is it called…karaoke! We should have a karaoke night. S-Shut down the whole ship and just chill with everyone, you know?"

"Oh yeah! Chill sounds nice."

"Right? Fuck we have good ideas!"

Purple rolled over and sunk his sharp claws into the luxury plush fabric of their million-dollar Plookesian carpet as he blubbered nonsense, running his unsteady fingers through the shaggy fur before his eyes went wide with blurry shock. He struggled to push up to his knees, flopping over and grabbing Red by the cheeks before squeezing.

"Red! Red!" He yelled in sudden bewilderment, staring down as his friend struggled to answer. "Red! Hey! Can you hear me?! I have…I have another great idea!"

Red grumbled and batted him off, pushing him back down to the ground as he slung his feet over the edge of his seat. "W-Who's yelling?!" He slurred vehemently, thoroughly confused and staring up at the ceiling with mounting paranoia as if to catch some kind of wraithlike creature staring back at him. Everything was getting too real too fast for his taste; colors began to waver and ebb, lights bounced and strobed through his eyelids and textures prickled at his oversensitive skin.

Purple pulled back when he halfway dozed against Red's lap, shooting up with a jolt when Red began to panic. "Woah, woah, woah! Calm down. It's just me." He chuckled through his teeth when his companion reached up and began to frantically try and unlatch the now crushing weight of his chest plate, slipping out his numbed arms and throwing them over his head.

"Begone with you, demons!" He cried in an uncharacteristically formal snort, throwing on a bizarre accent Purple had never heard before as he chucked his armor with all his might towards their coffee table, immediately shattering the fragile glass top and sending thousands of dollars down their collective drain.

Purple merely watched as glass skidded over the slick floor and buried itself into the fur of their rug before leisurely turning back to Red and holding his perplexed gaze when he reeled from the loud sound, the two staring each other down for a few silent seconds before bursting out again in intoxicated laughter and helping one another up, stumbling over uncoordinated feet and wobbly shins as they made their way to the main corridor just outside their quarters.

"I-I have an idea, Red!" Purple hissed again, throwing open the hatch and tripping clumsily over the ledge, landing hard on his side before pushing back up on his hands and knees. "L-Let's make cookies. I _really_ wanna make cookies."

Red strode past, clutching firmly at the guard rail as Purple sluggishly followed him from the floor. "Yeah! Cookies!" He screamed out in response, earning the immensely perturbed gawks of a few night guards staring blankly as their two pathetic excuses for leaders flittered past with wide smiles and obscene gestures before falling over one another again and collapsing against the wall.

"Um…my Tallest?" One of the little guards piped up tentatively when his coworker took a step back. "Are you alright?"

Red shot him a look from where he rolled against the cold metal of the hallway, whining out his immediate displeasure when the guard tried to stoop and help him up, shrinking back from the telltale stink of Hydrafruit pouring off his robes. "Get offa me! Can't you see I'm having an important talk with my co-Tallest?" He scolded, irritated when the soldier swallowed and continued trying to gently scoop him up from where he wallowed.

Purple squinted from his side at the name plate pinned over the guard's shirt pocket, immediately flying to his feet and tearing off in the other direction in false recognition. "Fuck! It's the police, Red!" He cried wildly into the distance. "They know! They know what we did!"

Red returned his terrified screech and thrust the oblivious guard back, uncontrollably stumbling to his uneven feet and sprinting after his friend out of fear of fictitious arrest and nearly falling flat on his face as he wheezed. "Pur, wait! I can't go to jail again!" Horrible images of his drunken night in prison back during his partying days with a bunch of inebriated nonconformists flashed vaguely through his hazy mind as he caught up to his now sobbing companion and pushed him hard to the side, passing him and throwing himself into the elevator, frantically pushing at the button and flustering when the door took its sweet time. "Come on, come on, come on! Close already! I-I can't go back!"

Purple yelled out his frustrations and vaulted through the door, pressing his back to the frigid metal as the door lazily fazed shut, enclosing the two together as they panted out their lucid mistrust and paranoia. Purple swallowed, reaching up and woozily smearing his tears down the side of his face before straightening back up and hooting in uncharacteristic, tipsy triumph.

"Damn, that was close!" He chuckled breathlessly as they descended slowly to the catering hall. "I-I thought you were gonna leave me for a second."

Red growled and punched him hard in the arm, stabilizing himself with a hand against the shuddering pod when Purple yelped. "Leave _you_? You're the one who left _me_ back there to take the fall!" He accused tersely, blinking when the elevator dinged happily and slid back open. "Geez, how can you be my wingman if you're always running away, idiot?"

"Shut up! You've already been to jail so it would be like going home for you!"

"That's not fair! I was only there for one night and you know it!"

"Believe me, Red, I remember. I had to fly all the way from the Academy to get you when you called me crying that you were hungover and your gross cellmate kept joking that you had blowjob lips."

"Eh…I mean…he wasn't _wrong_ though."

"…Ok, we're officially moving on from wherever this is going."

"But-"

"I said shut up!"

The hallway outside was dark and eerie, stretching for what seemed like miles into the pit of delicious, scrumptious hell that was the Massive's mess hall. The two set aside their pointless differences and, with great effort, managed to stagger down the corridor and out into the wide, pristine room lingering with the smells of the day's sweet, honied cooking. Red had pointed to the counter cutting off the main seating from the blackness of the kitchen, the two racing to gracelessly vault with wild, enthusiastic cackles over the slick barrier and skip into the vast, well-tended scullery. Purple flipped on the lights and immediately began to scour condiment shelves and steel drawers for everything he could remember cookies requiring to be halfway edible, tossing cutlery behind him in his destructive wake as he grabbed and tore at heavy bags of flour and tubs of granulated sugar, throwing them to the floor in a careless heap.

"Hey," He called out suddenly, catching himself before he went down again as he lazily hunted for a bowl to throw his untidy mishmash of poorly measured ingredients together, giving up when they remained hidden. "Do you remember what else goes into this?"

Red toyed with a long ladle he had found, admiring his reflection in the concave surface before sticking out his tongue with a giggle. "I dunno. Ask the readers or something. At least one of those freaks has probably made cookies before."

Purple cocked his head in bewilderment at the bizarre comment. "Huh?" His words smeared incomprehensibly against the echo of the desolate kitchen. "Who?"

"The readers." Red repeated before banging the ladle against the hard counter, surprised when he bent it and running his eyes over the handle with unusual scrutiny. "You know…the weird reviewers who read our fanfiction and hide behind the fourth wall?"

Purple still wasn't following, rolling his eyes and returning to his hunt as he shook his head in disgust at his companions mad babbling. "Geez, and I thought _I_ was high." Finally, he tugged a fat storage container from the bottom of a well dusted shelf, eyes sparking in delight with mouth watering anticipation when he realized what it was.

Chocolate.

Pounds upon pounds of creamy chocolate morsels begging to be cooked to gooey perfection.

He popped the top, nearly crying at the rich, delectable scent heightened by the opaque swimming feeling buzzing in the back of his skull. Right now, in this moment, all Purple wanted to do was sensually melt down that luscious candy and slather every inch of his body in the velvety goodness until he passed out. He wanted to bathe in its glorious essence and breathe it…make love to it…become it completely.

"Oh Irk, it's so beautiful." He bit his lip and held back a sob when Red appeared over his shoulder, still clutching firmly at the now mangled ladle in his reckless grip.

Together they found a wide plastic bowl and filled it to the brim with unreasonable amounts of sugar and chocolate followed by a tiny pinch of flour to the top for good measure, snickering amongst themselves as they deliberately stirred and feverishly eyed their masterpiece with an undeniable longing to inhale it and roll the sickening mixture over their moist waiting tongues.

"Wait, don't we need," Red hunted for the right word as he fumbled loosely with the knob of a stove to his left, lighting a vivid green plasma flame under the wrought iron of the main burner, "liquid or something?"

A look of slow understanding overcame Purple's groggy features as he wavered against the fast approaching lull of slumber tugging at his raw eyelids. "Huh. Yeah I guess." He cleared his throat and leaned over the bowl, spitting disgustingly against their horrendous concoction before pulling back and meeting Red's enthusiastic grin with a thumbs up.

"Perfect!" He grabbed for the bowl and hovered above the flame, throwing his head back with a wild laugh before dumping the whole of their monstrous mistake over the burner, slumping back against the sink and sliding to the floor when he heard Purple finally drop, comatose to the penetrating high superseding his PAK systems and causing him to short in a hilarious heap.

Red giggled to himself as he hung limply against his flaccid friend's shoulder, admiring the raging danger of the fire he had ignited over the stove as chocolate sputtered and popped lethally in the blaze.

"More cookies for me, then."

* * *

Red awoke the next morning to the filthy sounds of Purple retching into the sink above him, groaning and rolling over in a pool of his own disgusting drool to stare up at his pathetically ill friend as he heaved. Where…where were they? He blinked the overpowering light from his eyes as the sound of an inflamed stove sputtered and crackled from afar, woozily breaking him out of the mind-numbing fog plaguing his dull senses. He felt absolutely terrible; a resounding, sluggish ache spreading through each of his fingers and toes as he shivered, noticing his breast plate was missing. Irk, what happened last night? What time was it?

He winced when Purple slumped hard over the lip of the sink with a heavy cough, forgetting about his own pains as he rasped out a chuckle at the hysterically comical sight of his once mighty co-Tallest so pale and strung out. "Heh. Couldn't handle it, huh, Pur?" He mocked playfully with a fat yawn. "I totally called it."

Purple refused to look down, his annoyed voice echoing off of the stainless steel he was practically falling into. "I-I hate you. I fucking…hate you." He grumbled, kicking Red hard in the side with the toe of his boot before gagging again.

"Oh yeah? And who's idea was it to get high on something I warned him would be a bad idea?"

"Shut up, Red."

* * *

Don't do drugs. That's all I can say. Just don't. It's not fun. Have a good day, fam!


End file.
